The Medievals 2 Page 2

  But if she intends to respond, she is interrupted by the shing of Tizona as El Cid draws his sword from his side, the red hot flame climbing the steel. Just as quickly, Loxley pulls an arrow from his quiver and loads his bow. Ivanhoe wields his axe and Richard stands with his sword at the ready.

  While Richard expects the draw of weapons to give rise to fear in the woman’s face as she finds herself outnumbered, she reveals no worry. Not even the suggestion of concern.

  Instead, as she stands there blending into the tall black stalks, a beguiling smile grows on her lips.

  It is a smile that welcomes a fight.

  In a flash, the woman leaps into the air above them, and she manages such a height that, for a moment, Richard believes she can fly. As she sails up and over Tizona, the blindfolded woman inhales deeply and, as she does so, the flame from El Cid’s cross-hilted sword is impossibly sucked into her mouth, the fire disappearing entirely.

  The woman touches down on the other side of them, her feet not making a sound as they hit the earth. The way her body moves, Richard imagines a deep well of control within her.

  She looks to El Cid and, with the pursing of her lips, she exhales a thin puff of smoke that snakes out into the air, the ghost of El Cid’s sword.

  “Tizona!” El Cid cries out, as if he had just witnessed the death of a friend.

  Loxley is gobsmacked, so much so that he does not seem to remember that he has an arrow at the ready.

  “That is some witchcraft,” he says, both shocked and impressed at once.

  Then, El Cid and Ivanhoe charge the black-clad woman. And as they race for her, weapons out, the woman reaches to her shoulders and divulges two sabers, which slice through the air and meet with Ivanhoe’s axe and El Cid’s long, flameless sword.

  And as the fight is joined, Richard watches with amazement as the two men have trouble keeping up with a blind woman less than half their size.

  The woman goes blow-for-blow with the two trained warriors, one saber beating back Ivanhoe’s axe while the other fends off the snuffed Tizona. As they fight, Richard eyes the woman’s twin blades, and he recognizes the weapons as the same Guan Dao sabers he has seen hanging in Master Cheng’s training room in the castle turret.

  Richard suddenly realizes he is spectating when he should be fighting, and he moves in with his sword leading. His sword clangs against one of the woman’s Guan Dao blades as he swings away, remembering to not hold his grip too tightly, as Master Cheng has instructed him.

  “A little help, thief!” Ivanhoe shouts over his shoulder to Loxley.

  “I’ve never loosed an arrow on a woman, but if forced, I will,” Loxley threatens, his bow taut with an arrow aimed at the woman’s chest. “Not altogether true, I guess. There was the time I let fly into my twin sister’s leg, but it was only after I discovered she had sold me out to the sheriff.”

  “Just shoot her!” Ivanhoe orders.

  Richard looks to Loxley, who is constantly aiming and then re-aiming his arrow in the direction of the ever-moving woman. She is so quick -- and so clever in the way she ducks behind her opponents -- that Loxley is unable to fire off an arrow without risking a wound to the other three.

  But fire he does. And Loxley’s arrow finds El Cid’s leg, sinking into the Spaniard’s massive thigh.

  “Arrrgh!” El Cid cries in pain, his body thrown off balance as he backs into Richard, taking them both out of the fight for a moment.

  “You call yourself a good shot, thief?” Ivanhoe barks, his axe now battling two sabers.

  “It’s not my fault! She’s like a fly on sugarcane, this one!” Loxley complains.

  El Cid wastes no time ripping the arrow from his thigh, which is the size of a tree trunk, and therefore seems nearly unfazed by the arrowhead.

  Richard and El Cid both rejoin the fight. But even with three of them in the assault, the woman still manages to escape their blades, her feet seeming to never touch the ground.

  To Richard, it almost appears as if this woman is simply toying with them, the hint of a smile never leaving her lips.

  She hurls herself backward through the air and then lands on her feet a dozen paces away from them. She then carelessly flings her sabers to either side, the blades digging into the earth and standing upright next to the black fruit stalks.

  And while this seems like a sign of surrender, it is anything but.

  As Richard and the others advance upon the blindfolded woman who is now disarmed, she holds one hand out before her in the air and makes a come-hither gesture with her finger.

  As if obeying, Ivanhoe’s axe, Richard’s sword, Loxley’s arrow and El Cid’s Tizona all leave the hands of their masters and shoot through the air into the space above the woman’s head.

  “Well ain’t that a handy trick,” Loxley says with his signature whistle, continuing to be impressed by this woman.

  The four men stand there empty-handed and unarmed. All they can do is watch as the woman uses her magical finger to redirect the weapons, aiming the deadly tips at their owners.

  Richard is reminded of his Triumph Day performance when the character of the Master Rune, donning his feathered headdress, halted a spear in midair and then impaled one of the King’s soldiers with his very own weapon simply by willing it to do so. But while her magical abilities rival that of the Runes, this woman bears no resemblance to the ancient beings as described in the scrolls of history.

  The blindfolded woman continues to advance the weapons through the air gradually toward Richard and the others. Finally, the four men are ringed by their own weapons.

  Richard can feel the tip of his sword against his chest, his heart pounding less than a hair’s length away from the blade. One false move and the floating sword will pierce Richard’s heart, killing him.

  As Richard delicately and slowly moves his neck to look at the other men, he sees that they are also in Richard’s same deadly predicament.

  They are all being held hostage by their own weapons.

  Ivanhoe clears his throat: “You have our attention, Shen. What is it you want with us?”

  Shen. Richard remembers hearing his father refer to the Shen as a magical race charged with protecting Merlin’s descendants.

  But before the woman can reply to Ivanhoe, El Cid asks with a mix of realization and doubt: “You are the Blind Shen?”

  The woman nods, “Yes, I am.”

  “But you are a woman,” El Cid says, still wincing in pain from the wound on his thigh.

  “Again, yes,” she responds.

  “But El Cid has heard many tales of the Blind Shen, and El Cid believes that the Blind Shen was a brute of a man like himself, only borne of the Silk Lands instead of Espana. Never could such a great warrior be a woman, El Cid thinks.“

  “Who is this El Cid and why am I to be concerned with what he believes?” the Shen asks.

  “El Cid is El Cid” the Spaniard says. “You truly have not heard of El Cid?” he asks incredulously.

  Loxley groans, pleading, “Oh, let’s not do that right now.” Then, Loxley looks to the Shen, saying, “If you must kill one us, let it be the mouthy beast.”

  But El Cid ignores Loxley, pressing on, even with the stinging wound in his leg. “I am Rodrigo Diaz Vivar de la Domingo Diego, but I am known to many as El Cid, The Conqueror. El Cid is the greatest warrior that has ever been touched by the light of the sun. Five Moorish Kings fell to their knees before-- Ahh!”

  El Cid suddenly stops talking as the blade of Tizona pierces the sand-colored skin of his chest, a trickle of blood leaking out.

  “Silence,” she says, and El Cid obeys. “Where is the Descendant?”

  The woman with the blindfold seems to pose the question to Richard, who remains absolutely still against the tip of his blade, the thick fog of the Cloudlands drifting around him.

  Her question gives rise to Richard’s own questions: How does she know the Descendant is missing? How does she know that Richard and the others are looking for the Desce
ndant? And what does she intend to do with the Descendant if she finds her?

  “Who are you and why are you following us?” Richard asks, his curiosity unable to be put off any longer.

  “You answer my question with two new questions,” she says disapprovingly, and the slow assuredness with which she speaks reminds Richard of Master Cheng during one of his lessons.

  Before Richard can respond, the woman continues: “I am known by many names. Some call me the Blind Shen, as your chatty friend has said. Others call me the Keeper of the Magnolia. Still others, the Hua Warrior. But my given name is Mulan.”

  Richard remembers Master Cheng’s stories of Mulan, tales he liked to tell from beneath the magnolia tree in the Sacred Garden.

  “I am a member of the Order of the Shen,” Mulan says. “Sworn to protect the descendants of the Sorcerer of Light and the secret of his staff. I was sent a message from a Caemon regarding one of Merlin’s descendants -- a message I had hoped would never come.”

  Her mention of the Caemon lights a candle in Richard’s memory as he recalls the bearded man dying upon the table in the Throne Room, with Master Cheng and Richard’s father standing there as well.

  The memory is so near that Richard’s nose is visited once more by the stench of urine from the man’s stained pants. He can still see the spittle of blood that mixed with the man’s beard as he coughed. And Richard can hear that final noise that trailed out of the Caemon’s mouth, like a delicate thread of air that held a soul.

  Richard is chilled by the memory of the man dying right before him.

  “Merlin’s descendant?” Loxley asks, pulling Richard from his mind. “Ah, I see what is happening here. You got the wrong guys. We don’t know a thing about some descendant. We’re out here looking for some girl per orders of the King himself.”

  Richard suddenly recalls that Loxley, El Cid and Ivanhoe are not privy to the truth about the girl they seek.

  “Go on, tell her, Young Blood,” Loxley prompts Richard. “Set the beautiful lady’s mind at ease and let’s get on with it.”

  Richard considers what to say.

  Like the Truscan King, Mulan is already acquainted with the hidden truths about Merlin and his ancestors. If he lies to this woman and tells her he knows nothing of the girl, she will likely send the tips of the blades through their chests, having no use for them. And if he tells her the truth, he will expose the secret to Loxley, El Cid and Ivanhoe -- a secret he has vowed to keep.

  “Tell her then, Prince,” the thief says, growing impatient.

  “She is right. The girl we seek is the Descendant of Merlin,” Richard reveals to his fellow travellers, feeling as though Mulan’s mention of the Descendant is the key to unlocking his vow of secrecy.

  For the briefest moment, Richard’s chest feels lighter after hiding this truth for so long.

  “Poppycock!” Loxley says with a quizzical look.

  As Loxley searches for the words to express his puzzlement, Mulan focuses all of her attention on Richard.

  “Where is she? Who has taken her?” the woman asks intently.

  “We think she’s--” Richard starts, but Ivanhoe interrupts him.

  “Prince Richard, I urge you to speak no further on the girl,” Ivanhoe says from behind Richard, the two men’s backs touching. “We do not know the Shen’s true designs. It would be unwise for us to trust her with the details of our quest.”

  “Refuse me at your own peril,” Mulan threatens, and Richard can feel the tip of his sword move ever closer to his heart.

  But Ivanhoe is uncowed by the warning: “We are prepared to die if we must.”

  “Speak on your own behalf, Red,” Loxley protests as he looks to Mulan. “Don’t listen to him. The man fancies death. It’s all he thinks about. Something in his head came unstitched. Terrible company to keep on a journey like this, you ask me. Maybe if he told a joke or two from time to time, but--”

  “And what can you tell me of the girl?” Mulan asks Loxley.

  “Me? I’m fit to tell you whatever you wanna know ‘long as you kindly remove this arrow from its current mark,” Loxley offers, his eyes glancing down toward the arrow that is pointed at his heart.

  “You tell her what you know, and you betray this mission, thief,” Ivanhoe says. “Then I will be forced to let light into your chest with my axe.”

  “I’ve changed my mind,” Loxley says to Mulan. “If one of us must die, let it be Red.”

  Mulan considers Loxley for a moment, perhaps wondering if she can expect any truth from the thief.

  “Ivanhoe, I trust her,” Richard says, before Loxley can speak. “I believe she seeks the Descendant to protect her. I saw the Caemon -- the one who sent her the message. She speaks the truth.”

  “You are the Prince,” Ivanhoe says dutifully, although with a hint of reluctance. “I must abide your judgement.”

  “You saw the Caemon?” Mulan asks Richard, concern finding her voice for the first time. “Is he--?”

  Richard shakes his head solemnly by way of an answer.

  “You’re shaking your head at a blind woman, Young Blood,” Loxley whispers.

  Richard clears the embarrassment from his throat before saying, “The Caemon did not survive. But he gave his last breath to the cause of saving the Descendant.”

  “Thorne,” she says quietly.

  There is a moment of silence from the Shen, a brief moment that tells a long story. Were Richard able to see behind the blindfold, he imagines he would find tears.

  “And who took the Descendant?” Mulan asks, the words repairing her throat as she speaks.

  “Waldron,” Richard says, knowing a name but not a face.

  Mulan nods knowingly. “Of course. Waldron.”

  “Who is this Waldron?” El Cid asks, stealing the question from Richard’s own lips.

  Since King Lemlee spoke of Waldron back at the Tree of Ten Thousand Roots, Richard’s imagination has crafted its own versions stemming from the Truscan King’s ominous description: He is evil in corporeal form. Where there is light, he wishes it dark.

  “He is the last of the Runes,” Mulan answers. “The only one to survive the Endless War.”

  Again, Richard recalls his Triumph Day performance. The reenactment of the Endless War. He remembers the bloodthirsty saurians tearing the Master Rune apart.

  “He was imprisoned in the King’s dungeon, kept from the light of the sun for nearly a century,” Mulan recounts. “But then he escaped. And ever since, Waldron has been hunting Merlin’s descendants in hopes of finding Merlin’s staff.”

  “To what end?” Richard asks.

  “Just that -- to end. To finish the humans,” Mulan explains. “To exact revenge on the very people who killed off his entire race.”

  “That seems pointless,” Loxley casually notes.

  “If you knew all this,” Ivanhoe says, “Why did you not try to stop him sooner?”

  “We did,” Mulan responds. “The Shen and the Caemon keep watch over every dark force that could use Merlin’s staff for evil. We tracked Waldron for some time, but then one day, he simply vanished. We searched the Lands of the East, the Realm, the Eternal Forest, but never found him again. I assumed he was dead. Until now.”

  “So, this Rune, he’s like three hundred years old?” Loxley asks incredulously.

  Mulan nods.

  “Every question I answer will only spawn ten more," she says. "Right now, I need to know where you believe Waldron is hiding the Descendant so that I may rescue her.”

  “The Island of Forgotten Souls,” Richard reveals. “That is where the Truscan King believes that the darklings build their nests, and where Waldron hides.”

  “The far edge of the Cloudlands?” Mulan asks.

  Richard nods.

  Mulan speaks as if she has just made a realization that has eluded her for some time: “That is why the Order never found him. He is hiding where the living are not welcome.”

  Then, the woman bows, saying, ”I am gra
teful for your help.”

  She opens her hands as if setting something free, and the weapons fall to the ground.

  Richard can breathe easier, the tip of the blade no longer pricking his chest. But he is surprised as Mulan simply starts to walk away.

  “Wait,” Richard says. “Where are you going?”

  Without looking back, the Shen answers, “I am going to find the Descendant.”

  “You mean we,” Richard counters.

  Mulan stops and turns back to Richard. “You will only slow my journey.”

  Loxley protests: “There’s a chest of the King’s coin waiting for me upon delivery of this girl.

  “And a ship for El Cid to sail back to Espana and reclaim his glory,” the Spaniard adds.

  “We all have our reasons,” Ivanhoe says, retrieving his axe from the earth. “We are now bonded by our knowledge of this Descendant, and we will all go together to rescue her. That is final.”

  “You are four men with no obvious leader among you,” Mulan assesses, and Richard feels a sting in his pride. “You are not ready to face off with the likes of Waldron. I will continue on without you.”

  While Richard knows that Mulan is speaking of all four men, her words remind Richard of his father’s judgement of him: Son, you have the heart of a lion. But the rest of you is not ready.

  Richard has not come this far -- he has not lied to his own parents -- simply to leave the fate of the Descendant and the Realm to someone else. They are close, he can feel it. And this quest is the beginning of Richard’s story, and the end to the Poet Prince. He will not have this chance taken away from him.

  But he knows that he and the other three men cannot force Mulan to do anything against her will. She is too powerful. So he must use reason.

  “Just as you have sworn to protect the Descendant, so have we,” Richard says. “Even if you try to go it alone, we will still press on in our quest. Perhaps you will reach the Island of Forgotten Souls before us. But then you will be forced to confront Waldron by yourself. If Waldron was able to kill the Caemon -- the man you call Thorne -- you will need all the help you can get once you find him.”